Without your Heartbeat
by PalmyranQueen
Summary: JS. Sarah finds a pendant that she feels should remind her of something, but can't quite remember. When she puts it on, everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

Sarah dashed through the shop door, her bag held over her head in an attempt to protect it from the raging downpour outside. Thunder and lightning were just beginning to accompany the deluge, and Sarah groaned mentally. Wonderful. How on earth was she going to get home in the middle of a friggin' storm? She lowered her bag and shook her jacket out, trying to take off the worst of the water, but the thing was saturated. Shrugging, she put it over her arm and glanced round the shop. It was exactly the kind of shop she liked, and she smiled slightly as she began to browse through the little store. It was tiny, especially for London, and she was surprised she hadn't come across it before. Still, she was glad that she had decided to take shelter in it. Moving through the dream catchers, wind chimes, beautifully bound books with flowing gold titles, unusual scarves and jewellery, was like greeting old friends. She loved older shops like this one, with different, eccentric items tucked away in odd little nooks, almost like Aladdin's cave.

Since the Labyrinth ten years ago - _exactly ten years ago today, _she thought, with a sudden jolt of surprise, as she stroked a lovely velvet covered 'Secrets' diary - she had graduated from school, and then University with honours, and had eventually moved to London in a bid for independence, and the possibility of a new life without memories of that awful night crowding in upon her at every moment. That had been five years ago, when she was twenty, and had had to fight with everything she had to make it to where she was now. She had taken computer, graphics and photography courses, as well as the subjects that she was already qualified in, which were English, Art, Drama and Designing. With such varied skills, she was in demand from many firms, and had been able within two years to set up her own company with the high wages she was earning. **In Your Eyes** dealt with anything from designing houses or clothes to setting up websites and taking professional portrait photographs. She employed a hundred people in two buildings, and was currently looking to expand. Business was booming.

Her mother had died seven years ago, and Sarah had not grieved as much as she had thought she would. Without realising it, Karen had taken over the role of mother to the difficult teenager, and was far more reliable and loyal than Sarah's real mother. So, within a few months after coming back from the Labyrinth, and much more mature, Sarah had slipped into the habit of calling her step-mother 'Mom' and their relationship had been strengthened every day since then. She got on less well with her father, who tended to be very protective of his little girl, and resented her move to London fiercely. Still, thought Sarah, he had to let her go someday, and realize that she was a woman now. One thing really troubled her about her famliy, and that was that she could not love Toby as she thought she should. Instead of staying the adorable baby she had rescued, he had become a spoilt, precocious brat who was jealous of Sarah's relationship with his parents. Sarah couldn't stand him.

Sarah sighed and moved over to the jewellery stand, not noticing the woman emerging from the back of the shop and watching her intently. Sarah even thought, guiltily, that she resented Toby for being the means of destroying her chance to live her dreams. She banished the thought and remembered: _no, you were determined to rescue him, and show Jareth that he had no power over you! So it's your own fault, no one else's._ Shaking her head slightly to remove all thoughts of the past - _focus, Williams - _her eye was caught by a necklace at the back of the rack, stuffed behind all the others. She untangled them all, and pulled it out by its leather cord. She gasped as she looked at it properly. It struck an almost forgotten chord within her, something she felt she should remember; a dream, or a dream of a dream... It was a large V shape, the ends curling inwards slightly at the top, and made of an unidentifiable metal. It was not flat, but thick, so that it would be raised from the skin. It was stunningly beautiful, and yet she could not define why; she could not even describe it properly - one only had to look at it to know that it was mesmerising.

She clutched it to her chest tightly, and glanced around the shop. No, it was still empty. No one could take it from her. She looked at the pendant again; yes, it was as she thought. It had a horizontal figure eight in the middle. She strode quickly to the small, wooden counter, and placed the necklace down on it, already fumbling in her bag for the money, although there was no price on the necklace. The woman that had been watching her closely up until now came forward, smiled at Sarah, and ran the item through the till. ''Thirty pounds, please.'' she said calmly, looking Sarah full in the eyes. Sarah barely noticed the outrageous price, just slapped some notes down and grabbed the pendant, hardly daring to believe it was hers.

Without a backward glance she went out of the shop, letting the rain pour over her unprotected head, saturating her clothes, her only care for the beautiful thing she held in her hand. Automatically, her feet took her in the direction of her apartment, and she emerged from her daze to find herself standing outside the graceful, white-fronted Georgian building. She ran swiftly up the wide steps, and let herself into her large, spacious sixth-story flat. Sarah squelched in, and stood, dripping pools of water onto the floor, dropping her bags and jacket onto the table. She walked, hesitantly now, over to the huge, antique mirror above the fireplace in her living room, and slowly reached up, pulling her long, wet hair to one side, and tying the leather cord of the necklace around her slim neck. Her green eyes widened, and she gasped as the unfamiliar metal touched her skin, and she stared at her reflection pensively for a second.

A moment later she hissed in agony as an exquisite pain shot through her, emanating from the pendant. A whiteness burst from it, surounding her in an aura of unbearably pure light. Sarah fell, half-fainting, to the floor, writhing in pain as needles of white hot torture wracked her body, touching every joint. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the ordeal ceased. She stayed motionless, hardly daring to breathe, and after a few minutes struggled to her feet. She turned again to the mirror, while raising a hand to the leather cord that was about her neck, and tugging at it with trembling fingers. She shrieked as she saw her reflection, and grasped at the wall wildly to support herself.

Her hair was streaked with silver, real silver, that glinted and glowed in the grey light coming in the windows. She turned her head this way and that desperately, and everywhere the silver gleamed. The darkness of her hair had become unnatural; it was so black it was frightening, and her skin was now whiter than snow. She opened her mouth to scream again, and lost her breath as she noticed her incisors visibly lengthening, sharpening, until they looked like fangs. She closed her eyes, whimpers of half insanity passing her lips, and tugged again at the pendant. In vain. She rushed to the kitchen and hastily took out scissors and a sharp knife, but no matter how much she sawed at the leather cord, it did not even fray.

The knife dropped out of her suddenly nerveless fingers, and she slid down the side of a cupboard, until she was hunched on the cold, tiled floor. Sarah stared blankly into space, tears streaming down her pale cheeks as she contemplated her situation. Deliberately, she took up the knife, and slowly, lovingly, turned it on herself.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Never fear everyone! All will be revealed. Thanks for the reviews.

She had never known such a black despair - how could she hope to conceal her hair, her skin, her teeth? She had no hope of doing so; someone would notice instantly, and she would spend the rest of her life locked up, or branded a freak. Just when everything was going so well for her. These, and a million other thoughts drummed through her head as she slowly turned the knife in her hands, to point toward her chest. She was calm, so calm, completely and utterly detached from what her eyes were seeing; she knew that she was going to kill herself, but distantly she wondered whether she should, whether she should just deal with the humiliation. But something in her rebelled at the thought, and suddenly she was gripped with a cold anger that was so dangerous, so fierce that her blood-red lips drew back from her gleaming, preternaturally long teeth, and her eyes glowed blood red.

The pendant around her neck caught her eye, and she pulled it up in front of her face, examining it closely, and then she remembered what it had reminded her of in the shop, why she had felt such compulsion to buy it. It was almost exactly like Jareth's pendant, except for one significant difference. Jareth's pendant was an inverted V, like the Eiffel tower - this one was a V shape in truth. She dropped it as if it was white hot. For some reason, she knew that Jareth was involved in all this; he was orchestrating her life again, as he had done ten years ago. Well, he was not going to haunt or control her anymore, she vowed. Despite a certain regret for her parents and their feelings, she was resolved to do this.

Sarah took a deep breath, and the blood-red of her eyes misted back to the deep emerald they were normally. She drew her arm back to plunge the point of the knife into her flesh. Time slowed as the knife came nearer, her eyes steady and fixed on the steel of the weapon as it flashed towards her breast. Then she was knocked sideways viciously, and the knife clattered to the floor, a few drops of her blood staining the blade, her white shirt spattered with red where the knife had nicked her skin.

Her head rebounded agonisingly off the cabinet behind her, and she blacked out before she could feel two of the strongest arms pick her up easily, and nestle her close to a broad, muscled chest, which could be seen through a slit in the fine fabric of a loose silk shirt. Resting against the pale skin, half concealed by the black silk, was a pendant, an almost exact replica of the one currently about Sarah's neck, except that it faced the opposite way to hers.

The late afternoon light illumined the tall, imposing figure of a being so beautiful, so perfect that he seemed to dull his surroundings. The everyday objects that were littered about Sarah's home became unreal next to the potency of the power swirling about the darkly clad creature. For being and creature he was - in no way could he be mistaken for a human male. It was not his unusual clothes, effeminate on anyone other than him, or his wild, untamed blonde hair. It was not the sharp fangs that were so similar to Sarah's, or the abnormal paleness of his skin. His eyes marked him out as different; they held all the power and assurance in the world. Anyone looking into his eyes could well lose themselves in worship of a creation entirely superior to them, who had never known one instant's insecurity, who was so powerful it would be incomprehensible to challenge him in any way. Darkness cloaked him, stalked starkly by his side, and settled on Sarah as she lay insensible in his arms.

He bent his head towards hers, smiling with a tenderness that was cruel in its fierceness. His mismatched eyes, one green, one blue - signifying his dominion over all land and all water - raked her white face eagerly for any sign of awareness, but he was disappointed. He strode quickly through the apartment with a definiteness that signified his knowledge of the place, and deposited the woman on her bed. He removed his black leather gloves and pressed his fine-boned, strong hands over the slight wound in Sarah's chest. By a feral grin that played about his thin lips, it was evident that he was aware how intimate the action appeared.

A second later he removed his hands, and quickly covered them again. The cut in her flesh was gone completely, and he smiled in satisfaction. He smoothed her black and silver hair gently, and arranged her limbs more comfortably on the bed. He looked at her for a long moment; the sight of the beautiful woman on the bed made him catch his breath. He leaned closer to her, breathing in the delicate, sensual scent that belonged to the woman who had destroyed his heart, but drew back before their lips touched, cursing.

Their pendants clinked together as he pulled away, his falling out of the confines of his top to rest against hers. Magic and power sparked through the room, streaking through their bodies like wildfire, encasing every joint with molten lava. He gasped; although he had known what the reaction between the two necklaces would be, he had not planned for them to link so soon. Sarah still showed no signs of stirring, and he sighed in resignation, rising and moving to the middle of the room, turning away from the bed and its occupant. He conjured a crystal, and was about to disappear when a weak voice from the bed halted him.

''Jareth?''


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Never fear everyone! All will be revealed. Thanks for the reviews.

She could not believe her eyes, and shook her head to clear it, attributing her ridiculous notion that **_he _**was here, actually in her apartment, to the bang on the head she'd received. Her hand automatically went to her breast, and she gazed blankly at it when she drew it away clean. She glanced up, and he was still there, watching her, his head cocked to one side, surveying her consideringly. She must be concussed. She put a suddenly shaking hand to her forehead, trying to bring her jumbled thoughts into some kind of order. _Get it together, girl_! she admonished herself.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed gingerly, closing her eyes to dispel the nausea that made her head swim. It was definately that, and not the thought of having **_him _**in her bedroom, that was giving her chills. She sighed; he was assuredly there, for all that he was not moving. Power swirled round him like a cloak, and a darkness had encompassed the room. Only he had the ability to do that just with his presence.

What she didn't realise was that a deeper darkness than that in the room, a blackness closer in hue to that which surrounded him, wrapped around her, tugging at her soul and pulling away before she noticed it. He watched, fascinated, as it parted from her limbs as she moved, rushing back to cover them when she stilled. The physical embodiment of her power, which had been inevitable since she placed the pendant round her neck. And when the counterpart, his pendant, had touched it, their power linked irrevocably, their souls entwined.

''What are you doing here?'' she asked wearily, almost paralysed by her shock at his presence. Too much to try and be angry. He smiled his heart-stopping smile, raising an eyebrow in the infuriating - _sexy, _part of her said, which she sternly repressed - way he had, that had never failed to irritate her during their previous encounters.

''You were about to do something incredibly foolish, even for you.'' he said blandly. No,'Hello Sarah. How are you? Nice to see you after all this time.' ''I couldn't let you do that when you were about to become so interesting, now could I?'' he asked, with an innocent spread of his hands, as if appealing to logic.

She rose, but stood some feet away from him, trying not to be pulled into his hypnotic gaze. If she did, she was lost. And yet it irked her not to look him in the eye when she was challenging him. she ventured to look into his eyes, and to her surprise was relatively unaffected, apart from the usual weak kneed rush she remembered so well. Something fishy was going on. The pendant, her hair, eys and skin, Jareth showing up - too many coincidences in one day for her liking. She was annoyed. To put it mildly.

''What have you done this time?'' she demanded, allowing her anger to seep through into her voice. He smirked knowingly at her, and she hurried on, not wanting to hear whatever suggestive comment he had in mind. ''I know you've done something. Explain your presence in my apartment immediately, or I'll have you thrown out.''

The room darkened momentarily, along with his eyes, and his silky voice lost any hint of humour it had held previously. ''I don't think that would be very wise, Sarah.'' he said, taking a step towards her. He noticed with amusement how quickly she stepped back, and he continued smoothly, ''_I_ wouldn't throw out my only source of hope if I were in _your_ situation.''

She scoffed openly at him, a scornful smile playing about her lips. If she could have seen herself, she'd have locked herself away. Never had she looked more like her enemy. ''My situation? And what, pray tell, is that? And no situation on earth could possibly make _you_ my only hope!''

''My dear girl, you must have noticed the significant changes in your appearance this morning,'' he replied tauntingly. ''Even humans aren't that blind.''

She shifted uneasily, allowing the slight on her race to go unanswered, for now. _Great. Now what?_ ''What about it?'' she enquired coolly, raising an eyebrow interrogatingly.

''You don't have any idea what this change denotes; I do. You won't know how to cope with it; I'll show you. You will be terrified by the other changes about to take place inside of you; I can help.'' He crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke, observing her reaction keenly.

Mentally she was reeling, but she disguised it well, placing her hands in her pockets - a sure way to get Jareth to frown - and holding his gaze, hard as that was. ''If, I repeat if, I wanted anyone's help, give me one good reason I would even consider you.''

He smiled in satisfaction, almost triumph, and she felt a curl of red hot anger in her stomach. ''Because, Sarah, I'm the only one who knows about your...condition, and I'm the only one who can do something about it.''

Clenching her teeth, her fists so tight her nails were digging into her flesh, she replied, ''Meaning that somehow you are at the bottom of all this.''

He was silent for a split second, which gave her the answer. Her eyes flooded with blood red colour, and she took a step forward, drawing her hands out of her pockets. She fixed her eyes on his face, but his eyes were on her hands. She glanced down, then gasped in horror, the murderous rage abating along with the hue in her eyes. Her nails were lengthening, even as she looked at them, lengthening and sharpening to claws, or talons. She stumbled back, her breath coming in short, rasping pants as she fought not to be sick.

She looked up to see him approaching her calmly, as if nothing was happening. She drew her shaking hands in front of her face, examining them closely. Her horror was taking away her anger, and as her anger left her, so did the unnatural length of her nails. She stared at them, listening as he spoke persuasively.

''I can help you to control it, Sarah. Do you really wnat to live your life not knowing when something like that is going to happen? In the street? In front of many? They will lock you up, possibly kill you, constantly running tests, prodding, poking...imagine the humiliation, Sarah.'' He was circling her as he spoke, running his hands through her hair, over her jaw, brushing his fingers across the nape of her neck. She was weakening, allowing the contact, even sighing and leaning into his hand, her eyes fluttering closed.

''You don't have to live like that. Let me help you. I'll be there for you as your world falls down. I can...'' But her eyes were open and she jerked away from his treacherous touch. She turned on him, her fangs showing as her blood red lips snarled. ''And what will you want in return, Your Majesty? You always want something in return for any little favour you give.''

He studied her for a moment, his eyes impassive. Her eyes darted across his face, hoping to read it, but no emotion showed there. The silence stretched out between them, charged with the tension and power that existed around them. Finally he broke the stillness, saying simply, ''I want you.''


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah stood absolutely still, trying to calm the wild hammering of her heart, and not let her agitation show on her face. It was not easy; she had sustained too many shocks in the space of a few hours for absolute serenity, but with a supreme effort of will she managed to control herself, only the merest widening of her eyes betraying her inward turmoil.

In spite of himself, her antagonist was impressed by her reaction - once again she proved that the budding strength she had possessed whilst traversing his Labyrinth had flowered to an almost impossible degree. Perhaps almost to match his. '_For my will is as strong as yours...'_ Her deliberately uttered words of so long ago echoed in his head, and he sighed inwardly. At least she wasn't stronger. Just _as_ strong.

He watched her intently as she began pacing the floor in measured, yet hasty, strides, showing her indecision, and simultaneously her determination not to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. A woman in a billion, he thought with satisfaction. He was reflecting with a malicious triumph on the no too distant future, when she would belong to him, when he was startled out of this pleasant reverie by Sarah bursting into laughter.

He stiffened with outrage, his eyes going icy with pride and anger as he gazed at the sorely afflicted woman in front of him. She sat weakly down on the bed, tears of mirth in her eyes as another laugh shook her. She glanced up at him, and his expression nearly set her off again; something that the Goblin King was not used to. He waited in ominous silence for her humour to subside, staring at her, his face blank of any expression. He would not allow her to see that she had injured his pride by laughing at him. He would NOT give her that power over him.

Eventually she calmed down, and stared up at him somberly. ''Why?'' she asked simply. ''Why now? Why leave it this long to come up with a little plan of revenge?''

He had to stop himself from gaping at her in confusion. No explanation for her outrageous behaviour? No apology? Ah, but what was he thinking? Sarah was never one to apologize, especially to him. The thought of such an event ever happening was amusing, and a laugh shook him. She looked at him with a curious expression in her eyes, but made no comment. Well, if she was going to ignore his burst of humour, then he supposed he could overlook hers.

''Revenge, my dear Sarah? Hardly the term I would use. I must say, I'm hurt.'' he said flippantly, his mouth twisted in an ironical smile that gave the lie to his words. It was fortunate that he had been required to hone his acting skills in order to survive in the political maneuverings of his class system. ''Would such an arrangement be so distasteful to you?'' He flowed towards her as he spoke, and puled her up from her position on the bed, while she was caught in the intensity of his gaze, and the hypnotic lilt of his voice.

He held her lightly, with an effort - having her this close was torture - encircled her slim, supple body with one strong arm, brushing his other hand through her still damp hair. Their eyes were locked, their breathing quickened as his hand travelled over her neck, caressing softly. He drew her closer still, the whole length of their bodies touching, his hand moving over the swell of her breast and down over her flat stomach, skirting her hip and resting on her thigh. Sarah had the wide eyes of the hunted animal, her red lips parted to show the tips of her fangs as her tongue touched her upper lip in an unconscious admission of desire. His eyes darkened in response as he read the signs her body was giving him.

She gasped as his hand on her leg tensed and hooked round the sensitive inner thigh, stroking through her jeans. He jerked her to him roughly, pulling that leg up to rest against his hip, holding it there and molding his body to hers. She moaned and he tangled his other hand in her hair, and closed the gap between their faces, crushing her full, quivering lips under his. She opened her mouth almost instantly, and he took immediate advantage of her, invading her with his tongue, dueling with hers as he moved them forward so that she was pressed against the wall. With nowhere to go.

Sarah whimpered with the sensations coursing through her veins, every fibre of her being responding to his touch. Never, never had she felt like this with a man. He aroused feelings in her she didn't know existed, and she gave a sob of appreciation as he teasingly brushed his thumb over her nipple. She hadn't even noticed that his hand had crept under her shirt, let alone gone anywhere near _that _area. He smiled cruelly, triumphantly, into her mouth, and broke the contact completely, stepping away from her, and she whimpered at the loss of pleasure and heat, almost stretching out a hand to pull him back, before she recollected herself and snatched it away.

They stared at each other in silence, he smiling tauntingly at her swollen lips and visibly racing heart. she trying to master the waves of pleasure and urgent need pulsing through her. ''Am I really so bad, Sarah? I believe I've proved my point.'' he said coldly, turning away nonchalantly, before he lost control and threw away what he was gambling on. Her attraction to him was obvious; and it was the only concrete thing he knew about their relationship. It was what he was going to use to coerce her into accepting his offer, and, if he wasn't much mistaken, he'd just made an excellent start.

''You kissed me to prove a point?'' she repeated slowly, straightening her shirt automatically.

''Oh, I think that was more than a kiss, Sarah.'' he smiled ferally at her, having regained his iron control over himself. Damned if he hadn't come close to taking her right then and there, forgetting his carefully laid plans. But he had recollected himself just in time to stop the contact from going further, before he ruined everything.

He was so busy following his train of thought that he did not notice her eyes turning red, deepening to the colour of stained, dried blood, her nails lengthening, her fangs showing over her lips as she launched herself at him silently, with the swiftness of a wolf. He had a split second to see her coming at him, and less to act. He threw up a hand instinctively, and a crystal flew towards her, connecting with her forehead and shattering, glass flying everywhere.

She fell with a thud to the floor, her features returning to normal as her anger left her in unconsciousness. He was stood over her in a flash, cursing under his breath, lifting her up in his arms and shaking her, jolted out of his cold mask. The shards had cut her deeply, and sluggish, silver blood leaked out of the gashes. Another evidence of the chain reaction taking place within her. He healed her with a wave of his hand, damning himself. This was the second injury he had caused her in one day; he had heard of destructive relationships, but this was ridiculous.

He frowned in perplexity. There was nothing physically wrong with her, but she was not waking up. He checked her pulse and paled. It was barely there, and was slowing with every second, becoming fainter. He dragged her into his arms, rocking her, pushing every healing spell he could think of into her body, frantically touching her cheeks, her lips, her eyelids, murmuring harshly,

''No! I won't permit it...come back! You hear me, you fool woman? I forbid it...you are mine; I won't let you go!''

There was no response, and he threw back his head in silent anguish. The crystal should not have killed her; he couldn't understand it, but the only thing that drummed through his numbed brain was that she was leaving him. He bent his head in a last effort, kissing her tenderly, in stark contrast to the passionate, brutal one they had shared a few minutes ago. He raised his eyes to look at her face, and noticed with crushing relief the flickering of her eyelids, the strongly returning pulse in her neck. a slight wash of colour warming the pearly whiteness of her skin.

He stood up with her in his arms, placing her gently on the bed, wondering at the constant drama and emotion that surrounded them whenever they met. He felt that they both needed a break from the intensity of feeling that they engendered in each other - who was it that said: '_Too much love will kill you'_? No matter, it was true. At least, from a human perspective. But then, he had never been human, and Sarah...she had been marked as soon as he saw her that time in her parents room, defying him for her brother.

He glanced around and took up a pen and paper from the table. Dashing off a note to the sleeping woman, he placed it on the pillow next to her, and vanished.


	5. Chapter 5

This one goes out to **DarkGreenRose** - Thankyou for giving me the courage and motivation to carry on through a dark time in my life.

Sarah awoke with a jolt from troubled dreams where she was a deformed and hideous creature, with blood-red eyes and fangs, caged and completely within Jareth's power. She shivered slightly, wrapping her arms round herself for comfort.

Even in sleep she had been unable to forget the events of the previous day, it seemed; she felt drugged and unrefreshed, and her bed showed the evidence of her dream-tossed night, with sheets tangled and half-way off the mattress.

She climbed wearily into a steaming hot bath, and did not emerge from the bathroom for another hour, having pampered herself to the limit, with essential oils, conditioner, a pedicure and a body exfoliator, in the hope that this decadence would soothe her aching body and spirit.

She came out, eventually, feeling very much better, and firmly shoving any thought of mutating species and worryingly attractive Goblin Kings to the back of her mind, she sat down to her customary breakfast of strong coffee and a croissant in a huge white towel that ha dbeen a gift from her father.

It was only when she had finished breakfast and was in her room getting dressed that her eyes grazed the folded twist of paper on her pillow, and her breath hitched in her throat. Feeling absurdly nervous, she approached it and picked it up gingerly, smoothing out the creases and focusing her full attention on the beautiful black script.

_Sarah._

_I apologise for the confrontational nature of our meeting today, and hope that you are feeling sufficiently recovered when you read this. I have returned to my kingdom, as matters require my attention there. _

_You know where I am, and how to reach me. _

_Which you will need to do, Sarah. Very soon. _

_J._

Her eyebrows had risen in astonishment at the polite, humble tone of the first few lines, but by the end of the missive she was scowling, nodding slightly as she realized what a fool she had been to think even for a moment that he would apologise truly and leave her alone. He was biding his time, the worm!

What did he mean? She was convinced that she could manage to conceal whatever he had done to her. She could live quite happily; it might even go away if she ignored it for long and hard enough. _Who was she kidding? _Jareth was always one to do a thorough job.

Sighing in frustration, she walked to the mirror to start her make-up, and went still with horror. Her eyes had turned to red with her anger, her incisor teeth showing over her lips. They gradually receeded as she stood, transfixed, but she noticed dismally that the changes she had noticed the day before were still in evidence.

She had hoped that they were a figment of her overwrought imagination, putting them down to the stress of yesterday. Or that, somehow, they would have disappeared overnight.

No.

Although not as obvious and dramatic as her eyes, teeth and nails, they were definitely there, and so blatantly other-worldly that she didn't know HOW she was going to explain them away.

Her skin had turned unnaturally and transcluently white, not even pale, but white. Her hair was slashed with silver streaks that glinted and glistened independent of light and shadow. Her eyebrows slanted sharply upwards, along her temples, giving her the cruel look of a satyr.

The pendant was still hanging round her neck - she had a shrewd suspicion that it wasn't going to come off, no matter what she did, and she confirmed her suspicion by ripping at it frantically with her nails, sawing at it with a knife, attempting to burn it...it was impervious to all her efforts. Great.

But that was the least of her worries. Her physical changes were unmistakable. everyt ime she looked into a mirror, it was like a slap in the face. There was no way they would go unnoticed. At best, people would attribute it to her whacky sense of fashion and her artist's temperment. At worst...

Sarah shook her head in hopelessness, almost understanding her temporary madness of the day before when she had turned the knife on herself. Subconsciously, she must have realised that she had a choice - suffer the humiliation of tests and ridicule in this world, or submit to Jareth's control. Her eyes flickered to the knife. It was a question of the lesser of two evils, and she was damned if she knew which was the lesser.

She picked up the knife, hesitating, and with one deliberate movement dropped it into the drawer, closing it with a snap. Suicide was not an option - it was the coward's way out. And she, the conqueror of the Labyrinth, head of a successful business, was definitely not a coward.

Methodically, she tidied up her apartment, rang into work sick, and needlessly prepared a stir-fry for her evening meal. She always ate out, anyway. But anything to keep her mind off her predicament. When she had exhausted her options of things to do in the house, she plopped herself down on the sofa, turning the television on and flicking listlessly through the channels.

Her emerald green eyes moved to the window. She wanted to be out there, in the world, running her business, in the thick of London hustle and bustle, surrounded by people. She felt stifled and useless stuck indoors, but she was not going outside under any circumstances. ANY circumstances.

The phone rang.

Damn.

She approached it with some trepidation, but shook herself mentally when she remembered that the person on the other side of the line couldn't see her and the awful things that had happened to her. she doubted if she was up to the challenge of deflecting remarks on her appearance yet.

'Hello?' she said as breezily as possible.

'Sarah, honey!' She groaned inwardly. Her father's voice was the last thing she wanted to hear. He had an uncanny ability of knowing when anything was wrong with his 'little girl' and never failed to put her moods down to her move to London, which he had never approved of. Sarah had deemed it unnecessary to tell him that her occasional depressions were more a result of being lonely for love than anything else.

'Hi, Dad! You all OK?' she got in quickly before he could start his usual round of probing questions about her life and relationships.

'Yeah, we're all fine sweetie, thanks. What about you? What have you been up to lately?'

'Oh, you know, the usual...work, going out, shopping. Nothing new to report. Look, Dad, I have to go and- ' Sarah looked round desperately for an excuse to get rid of her father without hurting his feelings. '- get over to the business; one of the girls just texted me. Something's come up. Lovely talking to you. Love to Karen. Talk soon. 'Bye!'

She slammed the phone down quickly before her father could get a word in, sweat breaking out on her forehead.

She felt so ill, and she knew that a moment more and she could have collapsed. That would NOT have been good. Her father would probably have put it down to stress, and whisked her home with no delay.

Stumbling to the other end of the room, she grasped the edge of the white ornate mantlepiece beneath the large, gilt Gerorgian mirror. She stared at her reflection, battling the waves of nausea that were swirling over her.

Panic clutched at her, and she bit down hard on her lip to prevent herself screaming. Her reflection was blurred and out of focus, her features unrecognisable. She closed her eyes briefly, and when she again ventured to look at herself she was as normal, except for the new and unnatural changes Jareth had effected.

Her heart beat calmed slightly and she relaxed the tension in her shoulders. Turning, she walked slowly and deliberately over to the bedroom, hoping that a lie down would dispel the terrible sensations inside of her.

Halfway there, she gasped with pain as her body contracted, her bones feeling as if they were writhing beneath her flesh. She fell to the floor, panting and moaning with agony, clawing at herself to make the pain stop.

Before she blacked out, she became aware of arms like steel bands round her, controlling her flailing limbs, and a melodic, desperate voice soothing her.

When she woke, she had no idea whether it had been a dream or reality.


	6. Chapter 6

When she came to she was lying on her back on her sofa. She raised her head groggily, and instantly regretted it as wave upon wave of nausea struck her. Retching, she dsahed blindly to the bathroom, and was violently sick for some time.

When the painful spasms had ended, she looked up slowly, blearily, at her reflection in the mirror. God, she was a mess. An echo of remembered pain shook her, and she winced instinctively. Trust Jareth to cause something as painful as possible.

The thought would normally have caused bitterness and rage to flood through her, but she was too tired to feel anything, too weary from the agony and other symptoms to whip up any anger whatsoever about him. She'd deal with him later.

The rest of the day was spent curled up on her sofa, wrapped in a duvet, watching movie after movie, with a huge box of chocolate she had found after a desperate search through all her cupboards. She stretched luxuriously and sighed. Bliss. She was almost able to forget all that had happened.

Once or twice she glanced towards the window. She wanted to go out, she needed to be at work...but how could she looking like a freak? She was under no illusion that the changes to her body were temporary; what she was still trying to work out was why Jareth had done this to her.

Obviously from his little rant at her earlier it was in order to make her give in to him, to beg to be taken away - he had made her a misfit, an undesirable, who would eventually become so isolated that she would _want_ to leave her home. Jerk.

Well, she huffed, she was not going to give in to him. So there. He was much mistaken if he thought that she would just cave as soon as something horrible happened. She could and would survive here, on her own planet. Somehow.

Feeling very daring and defiant, she stuck her tongue out at the room in general, and snuggled back into her duvet. She had another two tear-jerkers to watch, and half a box of chocolate to get through. A hurricane couldn't have disturbed her.

It was then that another piercing wave of pain burnt itself into her, and she arched, her mouth opened in soundless agony.

A week later she was convinced she was going mad. She had not been outside in that time, arranging a 'holiday' for all the workers at her firm, shopping and having it delivered via the internet...but the boredom was sending her crawling up the walls. Literally.

The defiance of gravity was something new; it had started two days ago when the telephone had rung. She had jumped in shock, and her feet had lifted off the floor and had stayed a few inches above it for some minutes, while she gibbered in terror.

Finally she had managed to force herself to go down, by concentrating on pushing all the cells in her body individually downwards. It had taken a very long time, and had left her exhausted and shaking. She wondered briefly how on earth (or not on earth, as the case may be) Jareth managed to defy the laws of physics so easily, without seeming to think about it at all. She reminded herself that he was probably thousands of years old, and had plenty of practice.

After the initial denial and fear - watching your own body hang suspended above the floor is _not _all fun and games, believe me - her insatiable curiosity won out, and she soon found herself quite happily able to walk on the ceiling and walls as naturally as she had previously done on the floor.

It was an amazing feeling, and she chortled with half insane glee as she mimicked Jareth's movements in the Ecsher room. It was a piece of cake, this adjusting to being a Fae lark!

A month later she was lying in the foetal position, quivering on the floor, her amrs wrapped around herself for comfort, sobbing soundlessly, tears leaking unrestrained from eyes grown weary and ringed with black circles that showed more than anything else the pain and heartache she had endured.

Her stubborn resolve not to give into Jareth was receeding ever more into the background with each passing second, all her unspoken wishes were to be taken away from this awful place. Yet the part of her mind that was still cold, hard logic reminded her brutally that he was the one that had put her in her present situation, deliberately and with malicious intent.

He was the one that had caused unimaginable pain to rip through her at any moment, he was the one that had precipitated the changes in her body that made it impossible for her to see anyone from her own world...had intentionally made her isolated and completely alone in her own environment, just when everything had been going so well.

'It's not fair,' she whispered, and an ironic laugh shook her. 'That's right, it's not fair. But that's the way it is...' she trailed off. She was so tired. Weeks of endless spasms of pain, weeks of thinking in circles for a solution, weeks of soul-destroying confinement had broken her spirit.

She couldn't find it within herself to hate him, to rail bitterly against him for ruining her life. She had, originally, but she had lost even that grasp on reality as hours that seemed months long passed in pain and despair.

'As the world falls down...it's falling down...falling...' she sang through a parched throat and dry lips. Caring for her personal needs had long since gone out the window, and she was beyond thirsty, beyond hungry. How long since she had eaten or drank? Her enfeebled mind struggled to remember through days that were disorientated and distorted into minutes, or years, by a haze that clouded everything.

The only thing that stood out clearly was the image of a vice like grip clamping her to a hard body when she was almost losing her mind in the throes of agony that her change bombarded her with. A soothing voice murmuring the words of a song...

_I'll be there for you _

_as the world falls down..._

Who was it? Was it her imagination? No. It had happened too often to be just imagination. Again she struggled to visualize her helper, straining her body off the ground, her hands stretched out pleadingly in an abortive attempt to search the recesses of her mind.

Frustrated, she sank back into the floor. Her eyes slid closed as she felt her grip on the world leaving her. And she was too weak to fight.

'My world's falling down, whoever you are. It's very nearly fallen, in fact,' she managed, chuckling at her own wit. Her brief smile died, and she frowned in discontent.

As her mind began to spin madly round her, and she lost the will to try and right it again, she murmured into the still room,

'So where are you?'


	7. Chapter 7

Even as she lost all consciousness, her mind slipping into the blessed oblivion she needed in order for her body to heal itself, there was a fierce rushing noise in the room, and the tantalizing hint of magic; myrrh, spices and sensuality. The room became sharper, almost seeming to snap into focus as the power rippled from him like waves on the sea. He stepped forward and knelt beside her gracefully, hovering over her, closely, without touching as he scanned her face for signs of awareness. Finding none, he nodded, satisfied, and gently scooped her up into his arms, cradling her frail body nestled against his chest.

'I'm here, Sarah,' he said softly, inhaling the first stirring of the magical scent from her newly silvered hair. 'As I promised.'

The darkness of his power wrapped around the two forms intimately, binding them together for an instant as he concentrated on the shift to his world. The next second he was striding through the corridors of his castle purposefully, shouting for a healer and maids. They came running, and clustered about in his wake as he entered his suite of rooms and set his burden on the large four-poster bed. There was a collective sigh as they feasted their eyes on the beautiful woman; it was apparent to them that changes were ripping through her body even as they looked, making her one of them permanently, and they exulted over their triumph.

Recalled to a sense of their duties by their King clearing his throat ominously, they set about divesting Sarah of her clothes, shaking their heads over human tastes in fashion. The healer bent over her in frowning silence, examining her and shaking his head from time to time in disapproval. Seeing they had her well in hand, Jareth exited the room softly, having caught a mouth-drying glimpse of long, shapely legs.

Sarah opened her eyes, then looked around slowly, blinking with surprise. Her eyes dawned blood-red as they wandered about the room, taking into view the exquisite and expensive furnishings, the sensuous textures and fabrics that abounded in the room she was occupying. She looked to one side and gasped; the wall that faced southwards was entirely made of some type of glass, clear as crystal, so that she could see the lethal passages and bleak stone walls that made up the Labyrinth. Despite the clarity of the view out of the immense window, she noticed that as she sat up and the bed clothes fell to her waist, it misted and swirled, becoming a cloudy, milky colour to cover her modesty, no doubt. She grinned. _Neat. _How kind of Jareth.

After a brief inspection of the elegant hangings on the four-poster she was lying in, and a cursory glance round the rest of the apartment, she swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood, revelling in the soft, thick rugs that greeted her feet. Shrugging into a silky shirt that someone had placed on a heavily carved chair that stood next to the bed, she walked swiftly to one of the full length mirrors that lined the walls.

_Damn. _Her physical changes were still there, as much in evidence as they had been before. But she felt stronger, renewed, in full control...she could _feel_ the Labyrinth humming outside, the very life within the walls of this castle, the heat of the sun, the cool of the stones, the beauty and magic that flowed throughout this world...she closed her eyes and allowed the sensations to flood her mind, filling her senses. She felt drugged, ecstatic with all the life that thrummed in her veins, and a beautafic smile blossomed on her face. She threw her head back, opening wide her arms, circling the room laughing with pure joy.

'Wonderful, isn't it?' enquired an amused voice from the doorway, and she stopped immediately, facing him, arms dropping to her sides and the smile dying from her face. He caught his breath; with the sun behind her, illuminating her features and showing every curve through the thin material of the shirt, outlining her in living gold, she looked like a goddess.

She tilted her head to one side, contemplating him from head to toe. He was wary, waiting for her eyes to turn red and for her to jump him, furious with him for taking her away. Instead she turned away slightly, moving to the bed and settling herself down cross-legged on it, still watching him. 'Yes,' she said finally. 'It's ...' she sought for the word, then a fleeting smile brightened her face as she found it. 'Magical.'

He was conscious of a sense of shock; he had expected fury, tantrums, tears, icy silence...anything but this. Eyeing her, he cautiously sat down in the chair opposite her, wondering what she was thinking. 'You asked, you know.' he said suddenly.

She nodded. 'I know. There are rules that I know as well as you, and I know that unless I asked expressly, you would not have taken me.' She smiled, and he caught a glimpse of razor sharp fangs. 'But I can still go back.'

He was already shaking his head. 'No.'

Her eyes flashed. 'Yes, Jareth. I told you, I know the rules. If I make it through the Labyrinth again, I can make any wish I want. And mine,' she smiled again, and he involuntarily hoped he wouldn't have to se that smile too often. 'And mine,' she continued, 'would undoubtedly be to go back home.'

He raised his eyebrows mockingly. 'But, my dear Sarah, there seems to be something you're over-looking. This,' he gestured gracefully, indicating the splendour of the Labyrinth in the distance, 'is your home, and has been since you left it ten years ago.'

She imitated his expression. 'But, my dear Jareth, there seems to be something you're over-looking. I can choose my home, and since I left here those ten years ago, I have realized the value of choices that can affect my life. So I won't be taking anything for granted. My wish will be worded so specifically that no one, not even you, will be able to read anything else into it...to suit your own purposes.'

He was conscious of a kind of helpless fury that gripped him; she was right, if she made it through the Labyrinth again and said her right words, then there would be nothing he could do to stop her from going back Aboveground. She was looking at him with an amused and tolerant air, as if she was merely amused at a child's antics. He stared back, saying nothing, locking gazes with her intensely, ignoring the urge to box her ears.

A smile flickered in her eyes for a moment, and she shifted on the bed, settling herself more comfortably whilst maintaining their eye-contact. She rested against the pillows with all the air of someone ready for a long wait.

Grinding his teeth, Jareth stood fluidly after twenty minutes of futile silence, during which they had stared at each other like two hostile cats without blinking, both refusing to back down. 'Then I suggest you get started.' he snapped, and flung over to the door.

A soft laugh broke from her, and he turned, his fine brows snapping together. Was she _daring_ to laugh at him? She eyed him for a moment pityingly. 'I never said that I would _actually_ go through the Labyrinth again to get home. I used 'if' and 'would'.'

He stared at her disbelievingly as she stood and stretched, gliding over to the huge window. She lent against the wall, looking out briefly. His hand clenched at the elusive beauty of her, feeling his heart turn over in his chest. He raised his gloved hand to his face, appearing to be stroking his chin; he bit down hard on his bent index finger to control the urge to touch her, for one moment to possess that savage and mysterious soul completely.

She sighed softly, still looking out over the wild landscape beneath them. 'I've missed this place, and I'll stay here until I know what's happened to me, why, and how to manage it. Then,' she shrugged, not looking at him, 'who knows?'

His breath hitched at her casual but decided words. He had never for an instant entertainded the hope that it would be this easy. She had fought so hard against the advancing changes in her body, against _him,_ for a surprisingly long time, and now she was docile, civil and prepared to fall in with his plans. In a very high-handed manner, of course, but he was prepared to over-look that.

'Very well,' he said smoothly. He almost added a sarcastic remark about her changed personality, and her easy defeat, but decided against it. Best not to push his good luck at this point. 'I trust you will be comfortable in this apartment...and also that you will join me for dinner this evening?'

He phrased it as a request, but she was not deceived; it was decidedly a command. Grinning slightly, and showing him that she knew exactly what he meant, and was only humouring him, she nodded dismissively, turning away to the dressing table in one corner.

Audibly grinding his teeth, Jareth exited the room, shutting the door with considerable force. Behind the door, Sarah smiled.


	8. Chapter 8

The Sun glinted on her hair, picking out and casting in molten silver the streaks that glowed against the infinite soft blackness. She moved through the Labyrinth, shining with inner radiance as she went, and everywhere she stepped shimmered and gleamed with her magic. It whispered to her seductively as she stroked one white hand along the walls, leaving a luminous trail behind her that glistened like a beacon.

Fairies fluttered round her adoringly carrying tendrils of her hair, holding it high above her head, or floating out pieces of her dress so that when she drifted through the passages she looked like an ancient goddess. Creatures followed her, peeping out from behind corners and stones, whispering excitedly about the Lady who now lived among them.

Doors, bolts, locks and walls melted away or moved at her touch; she was quite free to go where she pleased and do what she wanted. Nothing could keep her caged, outside or in. After one effort, he had stopped trying, instead closeting himself away in his deepest sanctuary with a slam of the door that had reverberated through the Labyrinth for minutes afterwards.

A tiny frown had crossed her otherwise serene face then, and she had halted in her progress, turning her head to look up at his tower, seeing him silhouetted in gold against the sky, watching her. Even at that great distance, their burning eyes locked and she sensed in a rush his resentment of her independence from him, his anger and feeling of futility. He had no more power over her now, when she was in his domain, then all those years previously when she had ripped herself from it.

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He had been so sure that now at last he had her safe, that no more could she defy his will by secreting herself away in the mortal world. He had been so confident that his plan would succeed, that the joining of their souls by the amulets would bind her to him and his Labyrinth forever, where she belonged.

But once again she had eluded him, even easily evading his wards around the Castle to keep her inside that he had made when he knew she was going to come into her magic. He had her, but he couldn't hold her.

So he continued to watch, biting his lips in impotent fury as she grew stronger and stronger, mastering her magic without any aid from him whatsoever. The traitorous Labyrinth taught her as it whispered and rippled around her, as she inadvertantly molded it around her.

It made it worse somehow that she came to him of her own accord, slipping past guards, locks and magic alike, to sit silently on a cushion, watching him as he strode restelssly form wall to wall, doing his best to ignore her bewitching presence. Knowing that he couldn't catch her up in his arms and imprison her there against her will, because she could glide away from him as easily as if she had been water.

Weakness was not something he was accustomed to feeling, but her passive, peaceful presence stung him with the knowledge that he was not bending her to his will...he knew it and she knew it, and she _pitied _him; therefore the weekly visits where she came, perhaps to soothe his ego, he thought savagely.

She didn't even eat with him, but took her meals outside; he knew for a fact she slept outside on a mattress of the softest moss, her hair splayed out around her and fairies watching while she slept. He had sat down some way off, his piercing eyes glinting in the moonlight as it washed over her like a blanket.

Opening her eyes and seeing him, Sarah smiled softly. His expression didn't change, just continued to burn her with its intensity. She rose and stepped towards him, so graceful that he barely saw her move at all before she sat down beside him. Fairies lifted high into the sky at her signal, dancing softly against the stars, fairy dust gently showering down around the seething King and creating a halo for him.

Tentatively, she reached out a hand, and he watched, fascinated, as it came nearer and nearer his face until it hovered a hair's breadth away from his skin. Seconds crawled by before she touched him, and he clenched his jaw at the sensation of their magic combining. The amulets flared incandescently, and lifted quite off the chest of both, straining towards each other.

She gasped, then exhaled slowly, drawing his head down to her lap, cradling him. He hardly dared breathe as he lay back against her, moving slowly so as not to startle her with a renewed clash of their magic.

Breathing heavily, she brought her other hand to the other side of his face, and her eyes slid closed at the onslaught. Gold and silver melded, a white light glowed and quivered, becomng brighter and brighter. Fairies scattered, laughing, leaving the two alone.

His heart pounding, he raised his hand to her hair, stroking and caressing, before deliberately moving it to the nape of her neck. His teeth showed in triumph as a moan slipped from her throat, and he made little teasing circles on her skin. Her eyes flew open, glowing a brilliant purple, and he stopped, entranced.

Her tongue flicked out over her lips, and she bent over him, trailing her hands down to the white column of his throat and softly brushing his shirt down off one shoulder. Mesmerized, he made no move, using all his energies to control the feelings her magic was inciting in his.

She bent still further, her dress gaping open at her breast, and he groaned as her tongue circled lazily over his shoulder, leaving a trail of unnaturally glowing skin in its wake. Their amulets clinked together, and their mingled cry echoed round the glade.

It died, and their eyes locked together, hers blazing purple. He growled and pushed himself up towards her. She fell back and he hovered over her, his eyes raking her form. His fingers began to unbutton her dress, his hand slipping in to cover one bare breast. She writhed as their magic strove together, his dominating. Her flesh burned where he touched it, and her sobs enticed him still further.

He lowered himself beside her and as he did so their amulets brushed again, and this time held. Their breath hitched. Sarah screamed with pleasure, wrapping her legs around him, and he threw his head back and roared with triumph. Surely, he could do anything with her now.


End file.
